Chapter 10

            I was awoken at dawn by the intrusive sensation of something grabbing for my attention. I stared up at the air for a moment, blinking the sleep from my eyes, only to realize that I could see the floating text clearly regardless.

Congratulations! You have survived your first two days in the Tutorial.

The Scribe has witnessed your deeds, and has decided that your Tutorial is prepared to advance. Two Paths have become available to be taken:

[The Path of the Leader]

Together, we are stronger. Survive the Tutorial as part of a group consisting of at least 50 members. Rewards will be granted based on the strength of your company, and your standing within it, with the highest being accorded to the Leader.

[The Path of the Monster]

The need to shelter others will always slow you down. While there is power in numbers, it is most important to remember that Power alone rules. Stand alone, stand strong, and the world is yours. Rewards will be granted based on individual performance.

Let it be known that conflict is the truest path to Power. Slaying your fellow Initiates will grant greater rewards based upon their strength.

Good luck, and may the Scribe witness your deeds!

 Path of the Monster? I thought to myself, squinting at the two offered paths. I mean, I don’t want to rely on others, but I wouldn’t consider myself a monster for doing that. I thought about the fight against the party of people I’d met earlier, and while I didn’t enjoy the thought of fighting more people, I wasn’t averse to it, either. Once defeated, they’d come back anyway, so it wasn’t like I was really killing them. I didn’t relish inflicting pain, but the System was right: Power alone rules. I wasn’t sure what kind of rewards the message had meant, but I imagined they were more things like the wand and the robe.

I dwelled on those thoughts for a few minutes longer, before drifting back off to sleep. Man, it feels good to be back in a real bed.

The next thing that awakened me was an immense impact shaking the tower, causing dust to trickle down from above. The vines holding the stones together writhed uncertainly, adjusting to offset the slow swaying the impact had imparted. When it happened again a few seconds later, I threw myself out of bed, and charged to the balcony. Even as I reached the doorway, there was a third cataclysmic impact, and the sound of splintering wood. By the time I reached the railing and looked down, I could see the ruined remnants of the door below, but I didn’t see anyone outside of it. After a handful of seconds, the tower ceased its’ shifting, the stones settling back into place with a hesitant groaning. I looked around frantically, trying to find the source of the impacts, but the only movement nearby seemed to be trees rustling as things ran away from the tower. The only thing different from the previous night’s view was the visible trail of destruction cutting through the forest, trees bent aside or sundered entirely, and in places I could even see the ground through an especially large area of destruction. What the hell could do that? I felt a gnawing sense of danger in the pit of my stomach, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up, as if I were being watched by a tiger or about to hear the growl of a bear.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an impact on the door to the boss room. The wood creaked under the strike, but did not immediately yield. I took a couple of steps toward the door, and hesitantly called out, “Hello?” I pulled together my energy, infusing them into a pair of firebolts that I held low and at my sides. There was silence for a moment, before the door simply disintegrated, scattering splinters and slivers of iron across the room with enough force to embed some of them into the stone of the far wall. My eyes widened as I witnessed the hulking form pushing its’ way through; it was a man, thickly muscled if his armor was anything to go by, the cuirass almost comically broad. He was armored like some kind of medieval dreadnaught, much of the armor crude and poorly-fitted, but dense, the nearly half-inch thickness visible at the edges. In his hands was an enormous two-handed hammer, and the very sight of the thing carried some of its’ weight, feeling like just by looking at it I could feel myself sinking into the stone.

“Damn,” the man murmured, his voice surprisingly refined for his immense barbarian bulk. “Guess that means you beat me to it.” He paused, and then shrugged. “Give me your fragment and get the hell out of my tower. You can do it via the stairs, or I can throw you off the balcony and dig it out of your sash. Your choice.” He raised the hammer to his shoulder, clenching the haft in his right hand, while his left hand extended toward me.

“Who the hell are you?” I questioned, the firebolts sputtering in my hands. Just what the hell was this guy?

“Three.”

“What?”

“Two.”

“Oh, this is bullshit.” The fear I’d felt at his appearance was entirely subsumed by anger. First he breaks into my tower, demands my fragment, threatens my life, and then has the gall to count down threateningly like some kind of video game character?

“Fuck you,” I snarled, winding up to hurl the suddenly surging firebolts toward him, one right after the other.

To my surprise, he smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

The first bolt struck his left forearm as he slapped it aside; there was a sizzling sound, and a ring of blackened metal where it struck, but most of the energy burst to his side, peppering the stone in sizzling embers. The second firebolt, he simply sidestepped, letting it pass right by his chest, before he stepped toward me, slamming his foot down with enough force to shiver the very stones of the tower. This time, the impact shook loose more than dust, one of the broad ceiling stones crashing down, and punching through the floor a few feet away from me. His step launched him toward me, and only my high agility allowed me to avoid the attack, throwing myself out of the way as fast as I could. His hammer broke through the stones where it struck, gouging a hole into the wall. The vines fought to hold the stones together, ultimately keeping the wall upright at the cost of a couple of the huge stones tumbling down to the forest below. I lashed out again, hurling another firebolt toward his chest, but he simply lifted the hammer into its’ path, the fire sputtering against the dense metal of the head, barely leaving even a scorch mark.

“Not bad,” he growled at me, “but not enough.” He feinted one way, the hammer seeming far too heavy for the abrupt redirection, turning a hammering strike into a lunge and a thrust. Even despite my attempts to dodge, the hammerhead still clipped my side and sent me spinning into the wall. I felt bones creak under the impact, and the dull ache in my side told me of the ruin it had made of my ribcage. When I drew in a breath, my chest filled with hundreds of spikes of agony, shattered bone pressing against my skin. He swung in for a finishing strike, but I threw myself to the floor to avoid it, choosing the pain in my ribs against attempting to take a second hit from that hammer. This time, several stones burst forth from the wall, soaring out to crash down into the forest. His hammer briefly overextended, the head buried in the wall, he opted to use the long haft as a lever on himself, and pulled himself forward and down to stomp toward my head. I crossed my arms over my chest, willing a barrier of flame between us, and his boot struck down, glancing off of it, and hitting the floor with enough force to bounce me slightly up off of it.

An instant later, an incredible bone-deep roaring began as the vines failed to support the integrity of the damaged tower, and the stones above began to crash down, punching holes through the floor wherever they struck. A sense of impending doom forced me to roll over, onto my injured side, just before a stone punched through the space where my chest had been. I scrambled away, saved from another hammer blow by a stone falling through the intervening space, forcing the man to take a step back. I frantically clambered back, and pushed my back against the stone wall, as something I had suspected came to pass: The floor, too badly damaged to sustain itself, simply collapsed onto the floor below, taking the glaring visage of the hammer-wielding man with it. It struck the floor below with enough force to carry it on downward, wiping out each floor, one by one, until it struck the bottom with enough force to set the whole tower rattling.

I almost thought that I was safe, balanced precariously on the edge of a stone, until I realized the tower was beginning to lean. I looked toward the balcony, and quickly jumped onto it, the railing nearly becoming the floor by the time I made it across. The forest clung close to the tower, one of the trees near enough that its’ immense branches were – very briefly – delaying and diverting the falling stones from the tower’s crest. I leapt out, grabbing onto the branches, and dragged myself through them, sheltering against the back of the trunk as the tower collapsed past it, shredding the tree down to heartwood on the other side of its’ immense body. The thunderous impact of the falling tower set every tree in the area shaking, the upheaval like an earthquake.

Hoping against hope, I checked my notifications, but didn’t see anything indicating that the man might’ve died in the fall. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to calm down my racing heart and laboring breath, the agony of my broken ribs buried beneath the warm blanket of shock. Confident that the noise and impact had driven away anything in the area, and that the huge cloud of dust covered me for now, I dipped into my belt pouch and drew out a health potion, clamping my eyes shut against the pain that I knew would follow.

When I finally made it down the tree, I crept over to the ruined stone, looking for any sign of the hammer-wielding warrior within. If he knew I had a fragment, then maybe he had one, too; if I needed all five, I’d have to recover his. As I began to dig through the stones, the rubble shifted thirty feet or so away from me. Small stones ran off in tiny avalanches, while larger stones started to lean away from something beneath them, lifting up. Bruised, bloodied, and angry, I glimpsed the helm of the hammer-wielding man. His armor was dented in many places, one pauldron nearly crushed flat, but judging by the firmness of his stance, it hardly seemed to bother him.

“What the hell are you!?” I shouted at him, stumbling backward over the ruined stone, my heart pounding in terror. He didn’t respond except to smile, and continue pushing against the rubble, trying to work his way free.

I turned and ran, covering my escape the best way I could think to do so.

A handful of reckless firebolts later, and the nearest trees were beginning to burn, the beginnings of another wildfire. I scattered embers of flame as I ran, setting bushes and undergrowth alight, pouring out every bit of energy I could grasp.

Whatever the hell that guy is, I can’t face it. Not right now.

The fear made me feel weak and robbed me of my power and magic. I could feel my control slipping as terror gripped me.

I will walk the path of the Monster, and I will become so strong that I will never have to be afraid again.

That determination restored some of my will, my magic waxing, but still well shy of what I knew I could do; I was slow to shed the grip of fear. But anger was a power, too.

I'm posting the first ten chapters here on SH to get a feel for the website. I may continue posting later depending on activity on the website.

In the meantime, I have up to date postings on RoyalRoad or advance reading on Patreon!